Prophet : Vignettes
by Ambrelle Shirak
Summary: Snippets of Kylie's life in the aftermath of "Prophetic Dreams." Will include some set-up for a future storyline. Set roughly to begin -after- the Apocalypse events in Season 4. (Based off 25 selections from a 50-prompts list)
1. 01 Welcome

048. Welcome

She stuck to his side like she was glued there, never more than a step away as he guided her through the complex labyrinth of hallways. He hadn't yet told her where they were, or what they were doing here. She felt Jason tagging along behind them, an ever-present shadow since she'd been on the road to recovery. When she'd asked when she could go back to school, and the Brotherhood house, Jason had been the one to shake his head sadly. For once in her life, she didn't know what lay ahead of her, where her path might take her from here. All she had was Victor's hand to cling to, and the hope that he would keep his word, that he would keep her safe.

Finally, Victor drew to a stop outside a set of large doors, like everything else in this place, they seemed to be made of foot-thick metal. He could smell the fear and uncertainty from her, and for a moment, he allowed himself to want to soothe her. Funny the things she would fear: the uncertainty of what lay in a closed room, the shiver of a curtain in a breeze, and yet, she had never once expressed fear of him. Victor didn't need to glance back at Jason to know he was being watched like a hawk. She was drug free, supposedly, but in the week that she had been recovering, not a single aspect of her powers had reared up.

Jason assured her again with a nod, his eyes flicking to the door's handle in encouragement. Victor took a more direct approach. He turned her to face him, doing his best to be gentle with her. The absolute trust in her gaze tightened his gut into knots, and he found himself smoothing back her curls with the back of his knuckles.

"You got this, frail." He told her quietly. "It's just the boss... Mags... you'll like him."

She bit her lower lip, and nodded. "You promised," she reminded him softly. "I want a tour..."

A slow grin spread over Victor's face, showing just for a moment, the tips of canines just a tad too long for his mouth. "You got it." He reached out and gave the door a push, twisting the handle in one smooth motion. "Go on. I'll be right here."

Kylie paused to wave at Jason before she ducked under Victor's outstretched arm, and into the unknown...

* * *

"Oh... Oh my..." Kylie couldn't believe her eyes. The room that she entered was open to the sky, towering trees draped with mosses and lichens blocking much of the view of the surroundings. Scattered around the room were large plates of metal, most of them taller and broader than she was, giving the room the feeling of an unfinished project. The temperature wasn't unpleasant, even if it was a little on the humid side, but the air was just filled with scents of flowers and trees.

At the far end of the room was a long metal desk, cluttered with the shape of something. As Kylie drew closer to see what that something was, she realized it was a relief-map of an island, done down to the finest detail. As she bend over to look at one city, the tiny buildings etched out in exacting design, the whole table seemed to shimmer, the contents upon the top of it, shifting and moving like some living thing. Kylie fell back with a yelp, even as she realized that she was watching millions of tiny metal filings shift into a new relief, a zoomed in view of that same city she had lent down to see.

A soft chuckle from the other side of the desk brought her attention back up. It took her a moment to recognize him. His hair had grown longer, brushing his forehead in a pair of curls that almost gave him a boyish air, and instead of the armor she'd met him first in, he wore a simple dark suit over a white shirt.

"I told you I'd be seeing you again, Kylie."

His voice sparked the memory, and she quickly remembered her manners. "Mister Lensherr, I... I should thank you. You made me go back, and you sent Victor after me and..."

He held up his hand, and she obediently fell silent. "Don't fret over such matters, Kylie. I didn't bring you here expecting any thanks, or servitude from you. I brought you here to offer you a choice. This island you see before you, lies some two hundred miles from where you stand now. It is called Genosha. I want to build a sanctuary upon it, a place where mutants can live without fear of prejudice or ignorance. Your choice, dear child, is whether or not you wish to be a part of forging a new future for our kind..."

She smiled, and for a moment, Magneto could see just how beautiful this timid creature could be. A hidden strength grew inside her, a strange sort of resolve that manifested and odd ways. This was the girl that had charmed his Brotherhood, and tamed his feral beast. This was the girl who had the secrets of an idyllic future housed in her head. Magneto steepled his fingers together, leaning forward onto his desk, letting the metal shavings settle into little mounds, and shuffle once more until the entire island of Genosha was laid out between them once more.

She was studying the map, her hands resting upon the edge of the desk closest to her. "Futures like the one you dream of... of peace, and tranquility, are all too often steeped in blood and violence. I'll... I'll help you with your island... your dream.. but –" she held up one finger to forestall his agreement. "I don't want to be drawn into any conflict. I've had my fill of that."

Magneto appeared to ponder for a few moments, even though his mind had already been decided. He had no intention of putting her out on the front lines of his personal war. Her power was too rare, far to valuable, for him to risk in such a petty way. He broke into a broad smile as he rose from his chair, reaching over the ridge of mountains that snaked down the center of his island. She met him halfway, clasping his hand with hers, and giving it a good, solid shake.

"I will do my best, Kylie, to keep you from the conflicts that will no doubt ensue. Welcome, then, my dear, to the Acolytes. Welcome... to the future!"


	2. 02 Potential

041. Potential

"It's not working, Jason." Kylie slumped in her chair, defeated. "All I'm doing is giving myself a migraine..." She rubbed her temples, hunching over as the pain twinged through her. Three weeks, and she still felt completely and utterly normal. Whatever drug Essex had given her had pushed her powers far beyond their limits. Jason simply believed that her mind was still recovering, that her powers lay quiescent while her mind repaired itself. Kylie wanted to believe him.

These daily sessions of trying to glean a single bit of information from Jason's mind were taxing her sorely. Each day showed her a little more cross, and a little less patient. Jason pushed her further each time. She'd slapped him twice, burst into inconsolable tears once, and cursed him soundly with language he wasn't even sure a young woman of her demeanor should even know.

He figured that it was probably a little cruel to keep subjecting her to all of this. But she had questions, and the only way she would get the answers would be to pluck them out of his head. He knew what she was capable of; he'd been inside her mind. He'd faced down her defenses and helped her put form to amorphous terror and fear. He gave her this break, straightening up from the uncomfortable chair while silently cursing his creaking old bones.

She was shaking and sweating as he crossed the room to fetch them both a glass of water. By the time he'd returned, she was sitting up straighter, and managing a brave smile for him.

"Thank you." Kylie was polite, almost to a fault. It was quaint how she was determined to refer to them all by their first names, not the call-signs that Magneto had given them. To her, he was simply Jason, just as Sabretooth was Victor. Quaint, and, in the end, utterly humanizing. He sat once more in the old metal chair, angling it slightly so that his knee touched hers. He let her remain silent while she sipped her water, getting herself back to some measure of equilibrium.

When it seemed that color had returned her to cheeks, when her hands stopped shaking, he took the empty glass from her and placed it upon the floor beneath his chair. Taking her hands in his again, he drew a deep breath, and locked his eyes upon hers.

"You must do this. I know you feel useless. I know you feel normal. But it is there, inside you." Jason was the one known as Mastermind. People were his specialty, anticipating emotions, gauging reactions, it's how his powers worked best. Kylie was no different. She was an open book to him. "Picture the amaryllis. A dormant bulb, plain and normal."

He called upon the strongest aspect of his own powers then, and crafted the very image of what he was speaking of. He had learned long ago that his illusions did not exist in the world, but in the mind of those he wished to behold them. He connected with Kylie, and made her see what he wanted her to see, a stark brown tuber, shaped much like a fat teardrop. He kept speaking, adding layers to the illusion as he did.

"But if you add sunlight.. and water... well, from something so normal, and so unremarkable, comes the most wondrous thing. Your powers, Kylie. They lay dormant, stressed and taxed by mistreatment and abuse. You have to show them love, respect and kindness, nurture and feed them, until they come to blossom again. Your need of them is like sunlight. Your want of them is water."

Her brow furrowed, and she scowled at him. Shaking her head slightly, she broke the eye contact, dismissing the illusion from her mind as easily as breathing. Jason's bushy brows rose, and he waited for a moment, to see if she had realized what she had just done. He gave her hands a squeeze when she seemingly did not, bringing her gaze back up to his.

"You just shut me out, child." Jason chided her softly, chuckling as the realization passed across her face. Her eyes locked with his, and in that single moment, Jason felt like an ice pick was driven through his skull. He flinched in pain, dropping her hands, and just as quickly as the sensation came, it vanished.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean... I didn't think.. I just.. I-" Kylie stammered and tripped over her own words in an attempt to assure herself that she hadn't hurt him. She had reacted on instinct, on the drive and desire to _know_. Jason waved his hands, and even gave her knee a gentle pat. His bell had been rung rather soundly, and even though she didn't seem any more in control of her powers than before, at least now, they were no longer dormant.

"I think we're through today... Colos- Piotr will take you back to your room."


	3. 03 Deception

046. Deception

She was in Madagascar. He was in New York. Just how was that supposed to be fair? Sabretooth dug his claws into the wooden frame, and heaved against it, unmooring the door with a satisfying crack-snap. Pyro arched a brow slightly, but didn't say anything. If it was one thing you didn't do, you didn't agitate the feral on purpose. He'd learned the hard way to stand back and let him work out his aggressions. The low-throaty growl that echoed through the room was a direct indication of just how much Sabretooth wanted to tear something apart.

Certainly this lab would be perfect pickings.

Sabretooth desperately wanted to pick up some trace of Essex, and he wanted it for all the wrong reasons. Not because it was his latest job, to track down the mutant that had kidnapped and practically tortured two innocent girls, but because one of those girls had been Kylie. He was here because of her. Because of the fear in her eyes when she named this place as his, when she told Magneto that this lab was Essex's first attempt at manufacturing his biological warhead.

He was there, because, dammit everything, she mattered. And he desperately wanted her not to.

He wanted resistance, right now. He wanted someone to kill. Someone to concentrate on that wasn't half a world away. As he and Pyro split up through the lab, Sabretooth kept only a minimum of attention dedicated to the Australian. Pyro was capable of defending himself.

The first room of the lab seemed to be deserted. Models of genetic structure hung from the ceiling, and vast bank of three dozen microscopes lined one long wall. Drawings that made no sense to him were pinned up to a corkboard.

"'Ey!" Pyro's voice drifted to him from the far side of the room. "Found a door 'ere!"

Staying noiseless on the balls of his feet, Sabretooth drew up beside Pyro and snarled wordlessly in his ear. The flame-thrower was being needlessly noisy. After Pyro got the message, in a quick blossom of fear-smell, he backed away from the door in question. It was windowless, and displayed the classic _Authorized Personnel Only_ sign. A keypad to the right of the door led him to believe this was probably the room they wanted. Flexing his fingers, Sabretooth set his claws to the wall, and brutally, noisily and savagely tore the keypad away from the door.

With a hiss, and a thunk, the door depressurized, and the locking mechanism gave way. Sabretooth pushed the door open, and gestured Pyro through.

"Why, 'Tooth, ye've never been so kind." Pyro snickered softly. "Th' girl's rubbin' off on ye."

Pyro ducked through the door before Sabretooth had his equilibrium back. The girl. Was the effect that noticeable? Did he really act differently because of her? Sabretooth was still trying to figure out what Pyro had meant by that when he heard a yelp from within, and a frightened cry. As he passed through the door, a backdraft of heat and the stench of burning flesh hit him moments before the screaming reached his ears.

So this place wasn't so abandoned after all.

Sabretooth found Pyro toward the back of the lab, beyond beakers and test tubes and lines of rubber and glass. His victim was flailing, screaming, burning, crashing into everything around him, doing the job of destroying the work and progress for them. Pyro was giggling manically as the man tried to drop and roll, but Pyro's control never let the flames wane. Sabretooth furrowed his brow as the man knocked over a cabinet, and the contents clattered over the floor.

Gas masks?

He pulled his eyes away from the burning, and surveyed the rest of the room. There on the wall, pinned up to a corkboard much like the drawings in the previous room, were the images of Kylie's cell, the incomplete formula on the wall written in her blood. He twitched, fingers convulsively clenching into a fist, so he could feel his talons bury into his palm. Then all in one moment, his control slipped.

The feral roar of fury ripped from his throat, as he grabbed the nearest lab bench and ripped it right from the floor, toppling the contents, the carefully titrated chemicals, and the dripping liquids right onto the floor. Pyro made himself small against the far wall, and just watched the carnage unleashed. His own victim had stopped being entertaining; the technician was just lying on the floor burning now, not running, not screaming. Nope. Sabretooth's poor attempt to lie to himself about his own feelings was far more interesting to watch.


End file.
